Death? I don't know what it is.
But this I know - that death
Is twice as deep with despair.
I am frightened of the Grey Dog whose eyes
Are two red holes; whose body is a sheet
Which chokes; whose tooth
Will gnaw a living hell from cold
And tumble thoughts to ruin in his throat.
I am frightened of the Grey Dog whose tongue
Will burn the blood to dry; whose claws
Will cut the wounds which close;
Whose growl
Is a terrible token of no light, no love, no longing -
Only a mingling of mad misery and despair.
I agree with William. You are too good to NOT be writing, Tan. You know, all you are is out of practice. I promise, the more you write the easier it will become. Shannon
I think this is an utterly brilliant poem. It is quite exceptional and I love the concept of death with fear portrayed here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dear Tan-I keep reading your poems, and I find a soul that has launched himself into the deep where I find my refuge. Thank you. This poem I liken to my own experience of what I call Black Dog Fits-where I get so low that all that I'm feeling consumes me. Keep in touch. Phillip